


I Want What I Ask For; I Get What I Want

by elwon



Series: 2018 prompt fics [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham City Garage (Comics)
Genre: Aftercare, Alfred is Jason's biological grandfather, Anal Sex, Gift Giving, Jason tries to court Dick, Light D/s, M/M, Poetry, Spanking, Wining and Dining, gentle!domming, offscreen past casual Slade/Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 21:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14221770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elwon/pseuds/elwon
Summary: Due to a meddling barmaid, Jason’s got to keep up appearances and woo Dick. It goes about as well as expected. Now, it’s a matter of pride and principle. Jason’s going to get Dick under his arm, no matter how embarrassing trying is. But does Dick even want to be wooed?





	I Want What I Ask For; I Get What I Want

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flyingnightwingwing](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=flyingnightwingwing).



> for flyingnightwingwing's prompt: Gotham City Garage Jason trying to woo/court Dick  
> Title from Lurk by The Neighbourhood

Jason walks into Big Al’s Bar and heads over to the counter, momentarily pausing when he sees Nightwing sat there, body facing outwards the crowd and legs spread wide enough that no one can sit directly next to him at the bar. His head is turned to the pretty blonde sat two stools away from him, although she doesn’t look too interested. It’s only when he gets close that he can hear what Nightwing’s saying.

“So that’s it. I’m _surrounded_ by Hoods. Haven’t seen that much red since the _Quinzel Riots_. I’m the definition of dead meat. And this one at the head of the pack, he’s gaining on me with eyes ready to kill. It’s Jason Todd - - you know, the lifer? The kid raised in the gang?” Nightwing takes a sip of his bottle of beer.

“We’ve met. He shot two of his men in the head for harassing me and my girl on our first day of working here.” Stephanie says blandly and Jason realises he doesn’t remember that day at all. He probably should stop killing so many of his men, even when they’re being douchebags. Nightwing blinks, like he doesn’t know what to do with that information, before he shrugs and continues with his tale. 

“So anyway, he’s the kind of scum that thinks _scum_ is a compliment. But he can ride. So you know what I do?” Nightwing puffs his chest up and Blondie rolls her eyes. Jason bites back the laugh at how badly Nightwing’s striking out and he doesn’t even realise it.

“No?” Stephanie sounds bored, right up until she looks over and sees Jason there. Then she smirks. Jason knew he liked her for a reason.

“I ride _better_ , outride every hog those douchebags ever chopped.” Nightwing says with obvious pride.

“Wow. Is this ever the wrong bar to tell _that_ story in!” Stephanie says, standing up and slipping away with an amused grin.

“Wha- hey wait!” Nightwing says turning his head around to follow her and stopping when he sees Jason standing less than a couple of feet away.

“Are you seriously trying to use that as a pick up line, Nightwing? Oh _yeah_ , this one time? I totally ran away from a big group of scary fuckin’ guys! Does that make you hot, Blondie?” Jason calls out to Stephanie, and she spins on her heel and smiles a wicked grin and shakes her head. “See?”

“Fuck you, Todd. You’re the type of scum that wouldn’t get it.” Nightwing says hotly, glaring at Jason like he’s about to either punch him or kiss him, it’s that intense.

“You seriously need new compliments, pretty boy. You’ve called me scum all three times we’ve met.” Jason smirks, it’s so easy to get Nightwing hot under the collar, and fun too.

“OK, first, that is not a compliment. And secondly, you’ve called me pretty boy every time we’ve met too.” Nightwing snaps, grabbing his beer bottle and taking an angry swig from it.

“Yeah, well, I only know three things about you, _pretty boy_. One, you’re pretty. Two, you’re allergic to shirts and helmets. And three, and I only know this because your pants are too damn tight, you don’t wear underwear.” Jason snorts, rolling his eyes and picking up the beer Al’s poured for him. “Good luck finding a nickname out of those three things that ain’t pretty boy.” From the other side of the counter, Blondie snorts and tries to hide her chuckles unsuccessfully. Even Al’s rolling his eyes. 

“Fuck you.” Nightwing says, standing and walking away. Jason watches him go with glee.

“It’d be the other way around, but yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty boy? Bet you’d _beg_.” Jason calls out, just to watch Nightwing’s shoulders twitch. It gives him a bone deep satisfaction to see.

“Hell, no. Your type’s got no game. You couldn’t woo me even if you had the entire Garden helping you.” Nightwing yells back as he reaches the door to the bar. Fuckin’ pretty boy always tries to have the last word. Jason rolls his eyes. 

“The fuck I couldn’t!” Jason yells back as the door swings shut behind Nightwing’s stupidly pert ass.

***

“OK, so I’ve told everyone you’re gonna woo Nightwing. They’re all into it! Kick his ass, Red!” Steph exclaims, with a wide grin as she brings a load of empty dirty glasses in from outside where Jason’s men are drinking. Her smile falters when she gets two blank stares back. “OK, you’re doing that creepy twin face thing again. Please stop.”

“Creepy twin face thing, Blondie?” Jason has no idea what she’s talking about. OK, so he might have inherited Alfred’s bitch face, but that’s not creepy. That’s genetics. Jason rests his arms on the bar in front of him, face still carefully blank.

“Stephanie... you told them he’s going to woo Nightwing?” Alfred says, pulling his hands out of the sink full of dirty glasses, and is that worry in his voice? 

“Ye-eah? Shouldn’t I? I didn’t think it was meant to be a secret.” Stephanie sounds confused, hopping up onto the end barstool energetically.

“What, exactly, do you think woo means?” Alfred pulls down his sleeves and turns to fully face her. 

“Fighting? Like maiming maybe? Definitely kicking his ass.” Stephanie nods, miming punching and then stabbing somebody, and Jason thunks his head down onto the bar. He hates his life right now.

“It means dating, my girl.” Alfred says with the tone of the permanently done. There’s a beat of silence before Steph speaks again.

“Oh. Ooooh. Oh my god, are _you_ shit out of luck, Boss!” Steph snorts, only to squeak and hide behind Alfred at Jason’s glare. “Don’t shoot me, Alfred’ll get mad.”

“Don’t shoot her. I will get mad.” Alfred says slowly, as if he’s debating exactly how true that statement is. Jason just groans and lets his head thud down to the bar again, this time more forcefully. “Alright, I can’t believe I’m saying this... But, I’m going to help you.”

“Wait, really?” Jason lifts his head from the bar and leans it on his folded arms.

“Yes. You might be an idiot most of the time, but I’m not going to let you be humiliated by accident.” Alfred gives him a long suffering look and Steph snorts none too quietly behind them. 

“That sounds like you’re fine with it on purpose, Grandpa.” Jason points out.

“Why your mother decided to raise you in that gang instead of here, I will never understand. But you’re still my grandson, and I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished in taking over and keeping control of the Red Hood Motorcycle Club.” Alfred says, ignoring Jason’s last statement.

“Al...” Jason is a grown man, hardcore badass and leader of the most ruthless gang in the freescape. He is absolutely not getting choked up with gratitude.

“And no pretty boy is going to walk into _my_ bar and ruin your reputation while I’m still breathin’. So buck yourself up, my boy. We’re making Nightwing your boyfriend if it kills him.”

“Isn’t him being dead kinda counterproductive?” Stephanie interjects, looking far too amused.

“Probably less than you’d think.” Alfred says solemnly.

***

ATTEMPT ONE:

Jason walks out of the bar with two sealed bottles of beer and a sense of determination. After he and Alfred had spent way too much time trying to decide how he was going to woo Nightwing, Alfred had told Jason to go and pick out a classic poem to recite to him. Bored and tired of the debate, Jason hadn’t felt like arguing at that point, so he’d done as he’d been told. He’d eventually settled on a classic after several hours digging through the books of poetry that Alfred’s collected over the years, in the room that’s optimistically called a library, but is really just chest height to Jason stacks of books in rows around an otherwise empty attic, and Scott Free help you if you want a book near the bottom. The promised bookshelves they’d been waiting on having never materialised. (Yet another thing to hate Lex for. Not like they needed another reason. Especially as they’d never got paid for the attack on Gotham City Garage.) After reading and rereading the sonnets, Jason had finally whittled the list down from the first 126 sonnets, all of which are dedicated to a man, to just two of them. Eventually he dismissed number twenty four, leaving him with the very first one. There’s a reason Shakespeare survived through the worldburn, and he’s gonna use it to woo that pretty boy bastard Nightwing. Jason’ll show him who has no game.

Nightwing’s sitting some way off from the main building of the bar, far enough that no one else is really within hearing distance, staring off into the horizon. He’s been hanging around the bar lately, or so Alfred tells him. Jason would wonder why he’s spending time here instead of over at the Gotham City Garage bar, but to be honest that takes more care and effort than Jason’s willing to give. Jason walks up to the man slowly, keeping his footfalls loud enough to be noticed, spooking him means he’ll run off, and as much as Jason enjoys watching that (that ass is a thing of beauty to be appreciated whenever it can), he does need Nightwing there to actually woo him. 

“What do you want?” Nightwing snaps out, not even turning his head around to look at Jason. Creepy.

“I’m gonna prove I could woo you if I wanted.” Jason says, coming up alongside Nightwing and perching on the same boulder he’s sitting on.

“Pfft. Right. And I’m going to stick around for this because...” Nightwing looks over at Jason, smirking and clearly enjoying the fact that he’s holding the cards here.

“One, I brought you a beer. So, you should at least give me until you’ve finished it. Two, try and tell me you’re not curious, ‘cause I _know_ you are.” Jason pauses, passing over the beer to Nightwing. “And three, you’ve been comin’ round more often. So unless you’re trying to win the title King Dick you probably wanna play nice with the locals. Meanin’ me.”

“...You seriously think insulting my name is a good start here? I mean you were doing OK with the beer, you know.” Nightwing narrows his eyes at Jason, shifting the beer bottle in his hand, and Jason gets the sense that not taking the bottle to the face is dependent on his next answer.

“Wait, your name actually is Dick? I thought Blondie was messing with me when she told me that... Well, shit. King Asshole, then?” Jason blurts out. Dick’s ( _Dick!_ Is the guy asking for it or what with that name...) still squinting at him, now with a slight head tilt, but the bottle is lowered, so Jason figures he’s mostly out of danger now.

“Yeah, it is. Dick Grayson.” Dick flips off the cap of his bottle with his thumb and takes a swig, giving Jason a look that says get on with it. “The end of this bottle, right? Better get to work then, Red.”

Jason shifts uncomfortably, pulling a battered scrap of paper out of his pocket. He’s memorised it, but having a prompt never hurts. He takes a breath and starts reciting, keeping his eyes on Dick.

“From fairest creatures we desire increase, that thereby beauty's rose might never die, but as the riper should by time decease, his tender heir might bear his memory: but thou contracted to thine own bright eyes.” Jason glances down to the scrap of paper, away from Dick’s surprised look. He’s doing his best to put some emotion into his lines, Alfred had told him that sometimes the difference between understanding the old time language and being utterly confused by it was simple emphasis on the words. 

“Feed'st thy light's flame with self-substantial fuel, making a famine where abundance lies, thy self thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel: thou that art now the world's fresh ornament.” Jason can’t make out what Dick’s reaction is, his face is now suspiciously blank, and Jason’s getting the feeling this is not going as well as he’d hoped it would. 

“And only herald to the gaudy spring, within thine own bud buriest thy content, and, tender churl, mak'st waste in niggarding: pity the world, or else this glutton be, to eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.”

Jason finishes reciting, taking one last inhale and waits for Dick’s reaction.

***

“So how did it go? Good?” Steph asks him as soon as Jason walks through the door of the empty bar, she’s grinning from ear to ear, standing behind the bar while wiping at some glasses.

“Well, it depends if you think hysterical fuckin’ laughter followed by a ‘Hell No’ and then runnin’ off to his bike, and drivin’ off as fast as he could is _good_ , Blondie. Personally, I’m on the fuckin’ fence.” Jason grouses, slumping down onto a barstool.

“Alright, so that didn’t work, my boy, we’ll have to try something else.” Alfred says, looking up from his book and taking in Jason’s despondent face. “In the old days, I’d have said flowers and chocolates, but well, that would require a trip to the Garden. Perhaps you can give him a gift. Something he likes?”

“...stealing shit and not wearing shirts?” Jason mutters. Alfred and Stephanie share a long suffering look, the kind that says ‘oh crap, we’re in for a long night planning, aren’t we?’

***

ATTEMPT TWO:

If there’s one thing that the Red Hood Motorcycle Club has a lot of, apart from the suicidal idiots that make up its ranks, it’s weaponry. So having settled on gift giving as his second attempt at wooing Dick, Jason goes through the stockpiles of assorted guns, bombs and knives that the RHMC keep in their armouries. The dual purpose of updating their stock checklists and finding something suitable to give to Dick takes up an entire day of Jason going around all the sheds in the compound. Jason feels the satisfaction of knowing that his men and women can be armed to the teeth within moments if the need arises, and he picked out a pretty sweet stungun to give Dick. 

A mix of a taser and a semi-auto, it shoots out pellets of gel that once they hit their target, give a five second shock of 100 volts. Enough to keep them down for the count, but mostly non-lethal. Jason’s seen Dick’s electrified escrima, and while he’s fully capable of being lethal with those batons, he can’t remember Dick ever going the full fatal route on a living person. He should like the gun better than anything else Jason could give him.

Pairing the gun with some intel Jason’s gang has come across in a huge shipment of, well, Jason’s not quite sure. Something top secret, being run one of Lex’s former cronies, some douchebag called Simon Stagg, who’s trying to take over the Garden by imposing severe restrictions, rations and regulations while privately stockpiling everything he’s not giving out to the public, for no other reason than he can. Since Dick’s still affiliated with Gotham City Garage and Quinn’s rebellion, he might be interested. Well, Jason hopes so anyway. 

As a general rule Jason and his gang stay away from anything to close to the Garden. Stealing things being transported between the manufacturing plants in the freescape and the city is more their style, and has been since the gang turned from a regular biker gang before the worldburn thirty five years ago, to one of the powerhouses of the freescape that it is today. The RHMC has a tradition once a year of all turning up at Big Al’s Bar, where Alfred sets up a screen outside the bar and shows an old film series from before, much to the amusement of the gang, and all the other patrons. Jason’s always been weirded out at how accurate the post apocalyptic films are to his life. He’d even got the nickname of Sprog when he was kid. He’s never been happier that he outgrew that particular nickname. That said, he has to admit that his clothing choices might be slightly influenced by Mad Max’s. 

He’s been carrying around both the gun and the intel for a couple of days, not sure when he’s going to run into Dick. So it’s a bit of a surprise when he’s coming back from a nicely successful raid on a transport containing fuel that he runs into him. Jason waves on his gang and they leave the two of them alone to whoops and hollers that Jason could really do without. Dick at least doesn’t seem to care much about the catcalling, parked up as he is on what used to be a picnic spot decades ago and now is a scattering of metal tables and benches in a desolate barren area, like nearly all of the freescape outside the green or the farms and parks of the Garden. 

Jason drives over slowly, idling and parking his bike close to Dick’s, pulling off his helmet. Dick doesn’t do anything to greet Jason, but he also doesn’t hop on his ride and peel out of the parking lot to get away from him, either. When Jason walks over to the table Dick’s leaning back against, legs spread wide while sitting on the bench, he’d say that Dick actually looks a little amused.

“If you’re going to recite poetry, I’m out of here. I may live up to my name sometimes, but no one deserves that.” Dick smirks, and Jason drops on to the bench and sprawls as comfortably as he can.

“Relax, pretty boy. Once was one time too many for me, too.” Jason says, and Dick snorts and smiles. It’s a little odd to have Dick’s attention on him and seeing him smile at the same time. Odd, but also nice. 

“So are you trying again, or am I safe from your attempts at game?” Dick drawls mockingly, shifting towards Jason and the motion pulls his jacket open wider, giving Jason a nice view of those abs. Dick’s kind of an asshole, not that Jason could ever be called a peach, but damn if he isn’t good to look at.

“I don’t give up at the first hurdle, dude. What kinda loser do you take me for? Don’t answer that.” Jason says quickly, to head off Dick’s next insult. He still gets a laugh, but he’ll call that progress. “I saw this, and thought you could use it. Or not, whatever.” Jason hands over the stungun. Dick takes it and inspects it carefully. Jason deliberately doesn’t hold his breath, trying to be relaxed and casual while Dick says nothing. After several long moments, Dick sets the gun on the bench and pushes it over to Jason.

“Why would you think I wanted _that_?” Dick’s says blandly, but he’s staring at Jason with a hint of fire in his eyes, and his shoulders have drawn back tight. He doesn’t seem too offended by the gift, so Jason’s not sure what’s gone wrong. He decides to pick his words carefully for once.

“Noticed you use those electrified batons. I dunno, I thought you might want somethin’ long range too?” Jason shrugs casually. “I mean, obviously you can take care of yourself, but one more weapon never hurts, right?”

“I don’t use guns for a reason. Especially Lex-made Gardeners guns.” Dick says, but his shoulders have relaxed from their stiffened position, so Jason figures he must have said something right. 

“Which is?” Jason cocks his head at Dick, who glares at him a little. Not the right question to ask then. “Don’t look at me like that, pretty boy. Last person who did got laid.” 

“I used to be a Gardener. I left.” Dick huffs, as if Jason should know this already. “I don’t want any reminders of that time in my life.”

“Fair enough. No guns. Lex-made or otherwise.” Jason picks the gun up and shoves it into his jacket pocket. “Maybe you’ll like this better?” Jason takes out the small tablet with the intel on Simon Stagg’s private stockpile. He holds it out to Dick, who takes it hesitantly. He turns the tablet on, scrolling through the information there. He looks up at Jason in surprise.

“Is this... Where did you get this?” Dick says urgently. “Are you sure it’s accurate?”

“From a Stagg transport. And yeah, it’s legit.” Jason brushes a hand through his hair, glad that at least one gift’s been accepted.

“I’ve got to get this to GCG.” Dick says, standing up and rushing over to his bike, jumping it off the stand and revving the engine. “See you around, Todd.”

Jason watches him go, silently. He has no idea if that went well or not.

***

“So giving him a gun was a bust?” Steph sighs. Jason’s pretty sure the disgruntled look on his face is answer enough, but Stephanie just stares at him waiting for a response until Jason sits down at the bar and takes the bottle waiting for him and takes a much needed drink.

“He didn’t want it. Took the intel though. Didn’t even say thanks, the ungrateful fucker.” Jason clanks his beer bottle heavily onto the bar and Steph winces at the noise. 

“Hey, you know we recycle those, right? Go easy, Todd.” Steph says with barely any hesitation in her face. It makes Jason glare at her harder. It doesn’t work as well as it used to and that annoys him more.

“My mom used to say that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.” Steph taps her chin with her index finger with the hand not currently tucked under her other arm. She likes to call it her thinking pose, but Jason thinks it makes her look like she’s got tooth ache. He hasn’t bothered to tell her that though.

“Huh, I usually go through the ribcage. It’s a bit more work, but more satisfying and direct.” Jason nods, yeah, the bones make it harder, but sometimes you just need to go for maximum impact for the unlucky bystanders whose turn is next.

“Uuuuh... that was a mental image I didn’t need. Thanks.” Steph looks disgusted and it cheers Jason up immensely.

“Welcome.” Jason says, tipping his beer bottle towards her in a salute.

“Actually, what Stephanie meant was food. Feed him well, and he’ll come back for more.” Alfred says, coming up behind Jason with a stack of empty bottles, ready to go in the wash and be reused.

“I ain’t cooking, unless it’s with a flamethrower and a big side of animal.” Jason says with a grin, thinking back to the barbecue he’d made last year. It’d been quite popular.

“Well, perhaps we could make something up for you, and the two of you could find somewhere quiet and private to have a meal together?” Alfred says, dropping the bottles in the tub behind the bar and turning to look at Jason.

“Eh, seems like a lot of work.” Jason points out. He’s not entirely sure Dick’s worth it. The guy seems to dismiss him more now than he did before Jason started trying to woo him.

“It’s meant to be. That’s the whole point. You’re showing him you think he’s worth the effort!” Steph says brightly. Jason curls his lip in disgust at her never ending optimism.

“Fine. Make up some kinda picnic hamper then. Just make sure there’s a fuckload of booze in it. I gotta feelin’ we’ll need it.” Jason takes another swig from his beer, completely missing the shared look of exasperation between Stephanie and Alfred.

***

ATTEMPT THREE:

The trouble with Wining and Dining, as Blondie insists on calling it, is that you really want the food to be fresh. Which means preparing it right before. Which means getting Dick to agree to a time and place. It sounds simple, but in reality is much harder than it should be. The first time Jason catches Dick hanging around outside the bar, and asks him if he wants to share a meal, Jason gets a flat ‘no’ in response. But Jason had been expecting that, so he tries again a week later.

The second time, Dick had actually paused, and Jason’s fairly sure he would have said yes, if not for the fact that the Gordon girls had arrived right then, and Dick had taken the opportunity to run over to them instead, leaving Jason to wonder why the hell Dick’s even hanging around Big Al’s in the first place. If he’s so happy with Gotham City Garage, then why not stay there? Why come into the RHMC’s territory at all?

He’s going to try again today, and Jason has mixed feelings about it. Yes, Grayson is very pretty, skilled and he’d be an asset to the gang, not that he’d agree to join, and all the ladies have said that he’s fun to be around. But Jason’s only ever had aggression and dismissal from him. Usually he wouldn’t care about someone who so clearly doesn’t want to be around him, but there’s something about Dick that’s got a hook into Jason’s ribcage, drawing him in, despite himself.  
Jason sighs, looking around the bar from the corner booth he’s currently occupying. Dick’s sitting at the bar, chatting up a pretty redhead that Jason’s never bothered to learn the name of, partly because she seems scared of him, and partly because Alfred makes a grimace whenever she drops a glass or bottle, and it doesn’t seem like she’s going to last there very much longer. Jason really hopes she’s not why Dick’s been coming to Big Al’s. The redhead finally disappears into the back room, and Jason makes his move.

“Pretty boy.” Jason slides onto the bar stool next to Dick, staring at him pretty intently.

“Todd. Here to ruin things again?” Dick says, but it’s half hearted with no bite. If Jason were an optimist he might risk saying it was almost friendly. 

“Always, pretty boy, always.” Jason leans over the counter to drop his empty bottle down on the work surface. “But seriously, I’m here to ask if you wanna grab a bite to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” Dick says, and as if on cue, his stomach growls loudly. Dick grimaces, caught out, and Jason grins widely.

“Really?” Jason spots Steph sticking her head around the door and waving at him. Jason lazily salutes back and her whole face brightens when she smiles, disappearing into the back room almost immediately.

“...OK, fine, you caught me. I could eat.” Dick shrugs. “Also has anyone ever told you that when you smile like that you look like a wolf about to eat someone? Or a serial killer. A serial killer that’s also a cannibal. It’s deeply unattractive.” Dick sniffs, looking away, but the faint pink on his cheeks takes all the sting out of Dick’s insult.

“That’s oddly specific. And no, you’re the first. Feel special, pretty boy.” Jason grins even wider, showing all his teeth as wolfishly as he can. Dick’s eyes widen when he looks back at Jason, before a carefully bland look is pasted across his face.

“So. You’re offering to feed me?” Dick says slowly, twisting his body towards Jason’s.

“Yup. Either here, or we can get something to go and be more... private?” Jason says, leaning in to Dick’s space. Dick looks around the room furtively, probably for people he knows.

“Private sounds good. You have anywhere in particular in mind?” Dick leans in too, and then back, catching himself before he gets too close to Jason.

“There’s a spot out back, ‘bout two minutes walk? Down by the cluster of boulders, there’s a pond. It’s kinda nice. Thought we could go there.” Jason says quietly, that spot’s not known to most of the regulars here, it’s actually a natural spring where Alfred gets his water for brewing the beer. Hidden away and guarded by the boulders and an energy barrier to keep out the dust and bugs, it’s got its own alarm system in the bar.

“Sounds good. I’ll meet you down there.” Dick says back, just as quietly. There’s a small upturn at the corner of his mouth that feels companionable. Dick slides off his barstool and saunters out of the bar, and Jason watches him go, surprised that he actually agreed this time. Alfred comes out to the front of the bar not a few minutes later, with a basket that looks to be full of food and what Jason hopes is a two litre bottle of beer, covered with a cloth.

“Go get him, tiger.” Alfred says, passing the basket over with an amused twinkle in his eye.

“Here goes nothin’.” Jason nods, getting a grip on the basket’s handle and heading out to the spring, hoping that Dick really did go there. 

When Jason gets to the spring, Dick’s sitting by the pond, trailing his fingers through the water, with a content look on his face. Jason coughs quietly, announcing his arrival and walks over. He gently places the basket on the ground, and drops down beside Dick. The pond’s edged by reeds and a few stubborn grasses. Until Jason went to the Green to get his tattoos, they were the only green plants that Jason had seen growing in his life.

“It _is_ nice here.” Dick says, shifting back from the edge of the pond to pull the cloth off the basket. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

“It’s a family secret. So, if you go sharing, I’ll know who to shoot.” Jason grins, taking the bottle out of the basket and scanning the label. It’s beer, thank fuck, and the good stuff too. Jason makes a mental note to find Alfred something extra nice next time he’s on a supply raid.

“And real food too... You’re spoiling me.” Dick snorts, laying the fresh loaf of bread onto the cloth and delving back into the basket for a knife to cut it with, and shearing off two thick slices.

“Al never serves ration packs. It’s a pointa pride for him.” Jason undoes his jacket, shrugging it off. He grabs the two glasses and opens the beer, pouring them both a decent glass and taking a swig of his own, before sighing in happiness. “There’s probably cheese or some meat in there, too. Depending on how generous he’s feeling.” 

“Well, there’s a big chunk of cheese, so I’d say very generous.” Dick says, lifting said hunk of cheese out of the basket, with a starry-eyed look. “Man, I haven’t had anything this good since I left the Garden. I’ve been stuck with whatever ration packs I could steal. How did you get _cheese_?” 

“I already let you know about this place, pretty boy. A guy has to keep some secrets, or there’s no mystery to life.” Jason replies, taking one of the slices of bread and breaking off a piece of cheese from the chunk still in Dick’s hand. He folds the bread around the chunk and takes a big bite, enjoying the softness of the bread and the tang of the cheese. It goes so well with the beer; Alfred made a great choice with everything. “Nah, for real, Al’s got some kinda deal with all the Garden farms, he gets fresh food on supply runs, or whatever else he wants, and the RHMC only takes a small percentage of their products when we raid their supply trucks. They get attacked so the law doesn’t think they’re on the take, Al gets his fresh food, we get whatever we want and it works out so everyone’s happy.”

“I’d say that you’re the least mysterious guy I’ve ever met, but well. Annoyingly, you’ve proved there’s more to you than I thought today.” Dick pouts, but the effect he’s going for is ruined when he takes a bite of his own bread and cheese, and his eyes rolls back in pleasure. He makes a happy noise and Jason blinks, unprepared for the heat gathering in his gut at how sexy Dick looks like that.

“I’m here to ruin your preconceived notions about me, pretty boy.” Jason says, looking out at the reflective surface of the pond to avoid looking at Dick’s face.

“And there’s the Todd I know and grudgingly tolerate.” Dick quips back, and this time he definitely sounds fond. Jason’s heart skips a beat, so he rubs at his chest and wonders if he’s too young to be getting an ulcer. He downs the rest of his glass of beer, just so he can pour himself another one.

“Yanno, I got told once that eating a meal together makes people friends.” Jason says, taking another chunk of cheese before Dick eats it all. Either he really likes cheese, or he’s a fast eater. Either way, he’s not leaving much for Jason. Oh well, Jason’ll drink all the rest of the beer if Dick doesn’t pour himself another, so, having the cheese and bread is fine by Jason. “Of course, I ended up shooting that asshole in the head, after we’d eaten together so, I dunno how true that is.”

Dick actually laughs at that, and Jason grins back. “Why am I not surprised by that? It sounds like you.”

“Aw, thanks pretty boy.” Jason takes another drink, and grabs the last slice of bread before Dick devours it. He tears it into pieces and chews on them in between sips of beer.

“You know, don’t have to call me pretty boy all the time. You can call me... Well, maybe not Dick, but Grayson’s fine.” Dick says, licking his fingers to catch the last crumbs of cheese.

“I’ll call you Grayson when you call me Jason.” Jason gestures to Dick with his beer, and Dick gives him an amused look.

“Hmmm. Don’t hold your breath, _Todd_.” Dick says, finally picking up his own beer and downing the entire glass. “Well. Thanks for the food. It really hit the spot.” Dick moves to stand up and Jason’s not sure what to do. Suddenly Dick kneels down again and leans over Jason, bringing his face up close to Jason’s. “I never thought I’d say this, but... I actually had a good time with you.”

“Yeah?” Jason’s heart is doing that weird beat skipping thing again, and Jason’s leaning in too, wondering if maybe he’s actually pulled wooing Dick off.

“Yeah, but don’t let that go to your head, Todd.” Dick leans in so close that Jason can feel his breath on his lips. His eyes slip shut of their own accord and he’s sure that Dick’s about to kiss him. But then the breeze blows gently and Jason feels nothing but cool air on his face. He opens his eyes, and sees Dick walking away. Jason’s disappointed and annoyed with himself for being disappointed, so he lets Dick go without a word.

***

Jason scowls down at the bar top, spinning his empty beer mug between his fingers. He’s struck out three out of three times with Dick, and honestly, he isn’t looking forward to attempt four at all.

“You scowling at my bar isn’t going to fix things, is it, sunshine?” Alfred says, startling Jason and making him look up. Alfred’s frowning at him and Jason sighs. “You know where you’re going wrong? Or are you giving up?”

“Of fuckin’ course I don’t. I can’t work out what he wants. At. All.” Jason cups his chin in his hand and stares at the ceiling for a few moments. “I’m not givin’ up. I’m _regroupin’_.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve been thinking. I’ve been watching your boy when he’s been in here and you haven’t. I think I know what you should try next.” Alfred says, leaning forward on the bar, dropping his voice down low to keep the conversation private.

“Oh yeah?” Jason wants to know what Alfred’s seen, because so far everything he’s tried has been a bust. Maybe Dick’s right and he’s got no game. But then again he’s never really needed to try before. The boys and girls that want the quick thrill of having a Red Hood in their bed have never needed more than a beer or two and a couple of minutes of flirtation, before taking a nice little stroll to a more private place than the bar.

“The last few times he’s been here, he’s gone off with Slade Wilson.” Alfred says with more than a hint of distaste. Alfred’ll serve anyone that won’t cause trouble, but that doesn’t mean he likes or even respects some of his customers. Slade Wilson is one of those customers.

“Ugh. _Him_? But that douchebag’s old enough to be his grandpa...” Jason remembers the time he was fourteen and extremely drunk. Wilson had started talking to him, offering money and Jason had though he was being hired to steal something until Wilson’s hand landed far too high up his thigh for Jason’s comfort and he’d jumped up, yelling and stumbling. Wilson had ended up with at least four shotguns aimed at his face and a warning to behave if he wanted to remain with the living. To his credit, Wilson had backed off with an easy smile and some pacifying words along the lines of ‘Just a simple misunderstanding”. He’s never tried anything with Jason since then, but whenever he sees him in the bar, Wilson smirks at him, the total asshole. 

Jason comes out of his thoughts and catches the unimpressed look on Alfred’s face. “Not that there’s anything wrong with... uh... older gentlemen getting some? How are ya doin’ with your lady friend anyhow?”

“Hmmm. My lady friend and I are absolutely none of your business, young man. Anyway. I think what you need to try is the direct approach, my lad.” Alfred says, sliding Jason a key over the counter top. It’s to one of the small cabins behind the bar, the ones Alfred rents out for the night to people too drunk to get back to wherever they call home.

“I guess it can’t go any worse than the nicely-nicely I’ve been trying, right?” Jason shrugs and pockets the key. “He outside?”

“To your right, once you’re through the doors.” Alfred says, leaning back and heading over to serve someone else.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” Jason rolls his shoulders back and stands up. Time for another try.

***

ATTEMPT FOUR:

Jason steps outside and turns to the right. Sure enough, there’s Dick, sitting on an old metal barrel and staring out at the horizon, jacket open to the world and bottle in his hand. Direct approach, Alfred said.

“So, you wanna fuck, pretty boy?” Jason says, and then thinks he probably should have at least started with a ‘hey’, but oh well, too late now.

“You can’t seriously think _that’s_ going to work?” Dick snorts, but Jason didn’t miss the flash of interest in Dick’s eyes. Huh, maybe this’ll work after all. “And here I was, expecting a public serenading.”

“I wouldn’t sing if my life depended on it. And I tried pretty much everything else. Thought givin’ the direct approach couldn’t hurt.” Jason says, taking a few more steps closer. Dick tilts his head up to look at him and makes a scoffing noise. “I’m gonna be in that cabin, over there, waiting for you. Come or don’t. Up to you. But you know you wanna. So come.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Todd.” Dick says as Jason walks past him towards the cabin. He strains to listen for following footsteps, but he can’t hear anything. He gets to the cabin and unlocks the door, leaving it open behind him. It’s a small building, two rooms, one of which is the bathroom, and the other, which is mostly filled by a double bed and a small table with two chairs. Jason takes off his gloves, shoving them into the pocket of his jacket, and then removes that, hanging it over the back of one the chairs. He takes the four steps over to the bed, pulling a bottle of lube out of his jeans pocket and dropping it on the bedside cabinet for later, he hopes. Jason sits down on the bed to wait. Jason links his fingers together and stares up at nothing.

It turns out he doesn’t have to wait more than a surprisingly nerve wracking five minutes before there’s a quiet knock at the door, and Jason turns his head to see Dick standing there. Jason says nothing, waiting for Dick to either step through the door or go. Dick clenches a fist, glaring at the floor for a moment before he steps in, closing the door behind him and giving Jason a challenging look.

“Take your jacket off.” Jason says, fully expecting Dick to spit some sort of insult at him. He’s a little surprised when Dick only works his jaw and then rolls his shoulders, causing his jacket to slip off and pool at his feet. “Come over here.” Jason wonders if he’s pushing his luck with that, but Dick takes three steps forward and then stops, glaring at the floor. Both his gloved hands are clenched now, and his arms are being held straight at his sides. The pose looks unnatural on him; the one thing Jason associates with Dick is looseness. Jason stands up, walking around Dick until he’s standing behind him. Dick’s back has red welts on it, clearly from being hit with a belt. They’re raw and fresh, but Jason can see older, darker marks under them. They aren’t bad enough to be permanent, but Jason wonders at the frequency.

“That’s what you’re into? Wilson give you those marks?” Jason trails a finger over those welts and up Dick’s spine, purely to watch the man shiver. He’s pretty sure the answer is yes, but he wants to hear Dick say it.

“Yeah. So?” Dick bites out, and there’s the sass Jason was expecting when he walked in the door. 

“You wanna be beaten? I’m not into that.” Jason raises his arm higher and wraps his hand around the front of Dick’s neck, pulling him back against his chest. Dick struggles against the hold, but his arms stay at his sides. Jason’s not even holding on with any real strength, Dick could get away from him easily if he actually tried.

“What’s the point of you, then?” Dick snarls, staying right where he is, which tells Jason exactly what he needs to know.

“Because you want somethin’ else from me. And I’m gonna give it to you. _Pretty boy_.” Jason says, right into Dick’s ear, feeling him shudder, from the words or the breath on his ear, Jason’s not entirely sure.

“What do I want.” Dick’s voice is flat and wary, and given what Jason knows about the Bat and how he worked, and what Dick’s been getting from Wilson, well, he takes a chance.

“You want freedom.” Jason lets go of Dick’s neck and walk around him to face him. “You want a bigger, stronger man to tell you what to do though, too.” Dick’s frowning at him, but not disagreeing, so Jason keeps going, taking Dick’s chin in between his fingers and tilts his face up. He runs his thumb over Dick’s parted lower lip, just to see what Dick’ll do. He stays still, but his eyes widen and Jason can feel him take a quick sharp inhale of air over his thumb. “So. You’re gonna stay and you’re gonna do everything I say. Because it’s your choice to be here. Every time I tell you to do something, it’s _your_ choice to do it. Your choice to submit.” Jason watches the doubt and confusion in Dick’s eyes get briefly interrupted by fear and then turn into longing, right before he licks his lips. “You wanna walk out that door? I’m not stoppin’ you. But you’re not gonna. Because you wanna be on your knees for me, pretty boy. So do it.”

Dick’s trying to control his breathing, to keep it slow and steady instead of the heaving that his chest wants to do. Jason steps back, sitting down on the bed, far enough back that his knees are hitting the mattress. Jason looks up at Dick and waits. Dick sways on the spot for a moment, and then he’s going down onto his knees silently, moving like water and grace and some other poetry that Jason only knows from Alfred’s book collection. He settles down, still looking tense, but more relaxed than before. 

Jason takes in the sight of Dick on his knees, the spread of his lean but strong thighs encased in tight leather, and as his gaze travels upwards, the press of his cock against his fly, the top button enticingly undone. Dick likes this, no matter how much he might be fighting with himself over it. This is what gets him off. Jason’s pants are getting a little tight themselves. There’s a bead of sweat trailing a path down Dick’s abs and Jason wants to lick it to see Dick’s reaction, but he stops himself from moving because while Jason might be giving the orders here, it’s as Jason said. Dick’s choice for all of this. 

Jason’s attention is pulled away from the drop off sweat by Dick crossing his arms behind his back, forcing his chest forward. Jason stares at the tattoo covering Dick’s pecs. It’s a demon appearing out of a swirling blue fog. It makes him wonder why Dick would choose a memory like that to be forever inked for all to see. Jason’s own red skull and crossed handguns that make up the sleeve on his left arm aren’t as flashy, but he knows it’s based in loyalty to his gang. Dick’s tattoo though? Doesn’t seem to be rooted in anything happy or reassuring. Jason finally looks up to Dick’s face, the strong jaw and lush, soft lips, the straight nose and bright blue eyes made even brighter by the inky black of his annoyingly perfect hair, and the look he gets when their eyes meet is heated and needy. It’s a look Jason wants to see more of.

“So, Wilson uses his belt on you. Why?” Jason wants to know exactly how much Dick needs the pain, rather than the submission or humiliation. He knows he can deal out the last two, and he’s no stranger to getting rough in bed, or beating the shit out of a guy, but there’s rough sex and then there’s a getting off on being beaten. 

“Because I ask him to.” Dick says slowly, licking his lips again nervously. Jason wonders if thinks if he says the wrong thing _Jason’ll_ leave instead. “I need it.”

“Why? Is it the pain, or do you wanna be punished? You think you deserve it for wanting scum like me and him?” Jason scoffs a little, but there’s a flash of guilt on Dick’s face. The Bat must have done a real number on him if Jason’s right. “Then get over here.”

Dick stands up taking the couple of steps towards Jason, who grabs at Dick’s wrists as soon as he’s in range. He pulls on them until Dick’s bent over his lap, one hand between his shoulder blades to keep him down while the other presses Dick’s hands to his ankle.

“Hold on to my boot.” Jason says, tone brooking no arguments, not that Dick’s offering any up. Dick shudders, but grabs onto the leather. Jason flexes his free hand, and then brings it down sharply on Dick’s ass. Dick hisses, knees bending so that his weight’s more fully on Jason’s legs. “You’re gonna count for me. How many do you think you deserve huh? For wanting scum like me instead of a nice girl like Gordon?”

“Twenty...” Dick says muffled against Jason’s leg.

“Twenty. Fine. I’m not gonna go easy on you.” Jason lifts his hand and delivers another blow. Dick counts out one, two, three while Jason spanks him like the small child that Dick definitely isn’t. By the time they’ve hit double digits, Dick’s breathing hard, little sobs hitching in his voice as he counts. Jason’s not unaffected by the noises Dick’s making, but he ignores how hard he’s getting to focus on spanking Dick right. By fifteen, Dick’s apologising between sobs, shaking and lifting his hips into the blows, grinding down on Jason’s leg in between them. By eighteen, he’s lost count, slipping back to sixteen but Jason doesn’t correct him, because he’s still apologising, but also begging for more and it’s the hottest thing Jason’s ever heard. His hand hurts from the strength of the blows and he imagines that Dick’s ass must be bright red by now, but he feels like they’re on the cusp of something and he wants to chase after it. 

At twenty, Jason pulls Dick up out of his lap and Dick slips to his knees on the floor in front of him. He staring up at him, face red and streaked with tears, shame and want warring in his eyes. Dick twitches towards him, like he’s afraid Jason’s going to kick him away in disgust, but all Jason wants is for him to beg again, but then again, he wants him naked more. 

“Strip.” Jason says and Dick scrambles to stand, yanking off his gloves and pulling at the laces of his boots with shaking hands, they slip through his fingers over and over again, so Jason decides to help. “Come here.” Dick looks at him, eyes flashing with a moment of panic, and shuffles forward. Jason reaches down and pulls Dick’s foot up to rest on his knee. Dick breathes in harder, but somehow manages not to wobble. Jason catches Dick’s gaze and maintains the eye contact, a silent promise that Jason’s not going anywhere, doesn’t think Dick’s pathetic for being unable to take off his own clothes, as he undoes the boot and pulls it off, keeping the sock inside. “The other one.” Dick obediently switches feet, not looking away from Jason the whole time with something that could be awe or hope in his eyes, while Jason undoes the second boot and pulls that off, before lowering that foot to the ground. Dick pushes his pants down, revealing a hard leaking cock and Jason can’t help the feral grin that crosses his face. 

“On the bed. On your back.” He says, and Dick nearly leaps on the bed to get behind Jason, laying his head down on the pillow and looking at Jason once more with those wide wanting eyes. Jason twists round to face him, torn between the ideas of watching Dick jerk himself off, or toying with him for longer. He decides on the toying as he’s not sure Dick’ll agree to this again. “Spread your legs.” Dick spreads them with a small grin. “Wider.” Dick moves them apart further. “ _Wider_.” 

The stretch has to be painful now, but Dick’s holding the pose easily. Jason opens his mouth to say ‘wider’ again, but Dick parts his legs again, his ankle knocking into Jason’s hip. Jason wraps his hand around it and lifts it up, over his shoulders to rest in his lap. Jason can see Dick’s ass is a deep pink from the spanking, and it goes strangely well with his golden skin. How he’s not squirming against the bed, Jason doesn’t know, because he must be sore. Dick lets out a breathy moan,  
the bright blue of his eyes nearly gone with how dilated his eyes are. 

“Touch yourself. Play with your nipples.” Jason says, keeping his grip on Dick’s ankle, grounding them both. Dick rolls the hard nubs between his fingers, settling into what’s probably a familiar rhythm to him, punctuated by pinches and the occasional pull. The movements are smooth and practiced and Jason pictures Dick doing this to himself when he’s alone. It turns the ink on his pecs a light purple with the flush of blood. Dick’s hips start rocking in counterpoint, cock flat against his stomach and leaking into his belly button, and Jason stamps down on the urge to lick out.

“OK that’s enough. Get yourself ready.” Jason reaches over to the bedside table and grabs the bottle of lube, pressing it into Dick’s waiting hand.

“You want me on my front?” Dick asks, and Jason thinks the look on his face could be called shy if he didn’t know better.

“Fuck no. I wanna see your face, pretty boy.” Jason scoffs. “Watching you’s half the point of fucking you.”

“Oh.” Dick breathes out, like Jason’s just given him the best present in the world. He slicks his fingers up and starts circling his rim, slipping the tip of one finger in and out until it slides in easily until its knuckle deep. “Oooh. Oh _god_ , that’s good.” Dick starts fingering himself faster, getting another finger in there as soon as he can to get deeper and hit his prostate. Jason watches eagerly as Dick’s body swallows his fingers, stretching wide and ready for Jason’s cock. The pressure of his zip is getting painful now, so he undoes his fly. Dick moans loudly and Jason realises that Dick’s staring at his groin, licking his lips in want. It makes Jason’s cock throb, and he decides that Dick’s ready by now. 

Jason knocks Dick’s hand away from between his parted legs, and crawls up Dick’s body, pressing him down into the bed. Dick’s thighs press against the sides of his legs, cradling him tight. He stops when his elbows are either side of Dick’s shoulders, staring down at him. “Your choice, remember? So tell me you want this.” 

“Yes, _please_... Fuck me.” Dick begs, and Jason smirks, he knew he’d been right about that. He slips inside Dick easily, and the tight clutch of his body feels like heaven. Jason rolls his hips slowly, more for him, than to let Dick adjust. Dick moans happily, wrapping his legs around Jason’s hips and trying to pull him in deeper. Jason thrusts in harder and deeper, setting a punishing pace that makes Dick grab at his shoulders and dig his nails into Jason’s back. All Jason can focus on is the tight grip Dick has on him all over, the hard nubs of his nipples pressing against his chest, the breathy noises being punched out of him with each thrust, and the hazy gleam of pleasure in his eyes. Jason could have been fucking him for seconds or minutes, it feels so good that he’s lost track of time. 

There are tears or drops of sweat slipping down Dick’s flushed cheeks, a thin line of drool is dripping down his chin, and Jason thinks he’s never looked better. He wishes he’d recorded this, because if he had, he’d watch it every day, just to see this look on Dick’s face, and hear the breathy gasps he’s making.

“Fuck, you’re amazing. If you were mine, I’d never let you run away.” Jason’s losing his rhythm, his thrusts getting harder and reckless, not really aware of what he’s saying and not really caring either. “I’d always take care of you... Always take you back if needed to leave.” Dick chokes out a long moan, his body clamping down on Jason’s, his nails dragging all the way down Jason’s back, leaving scratch marks in their wake as Dick comes hard, panting wildly as he comes down. It triggers Jason’s own orgasm, and he slumps down onto Dick, his arms shoving under Dick’s head to pull him in closer. 

They rest there for a few minutes until Jason pulls away, slipping out of Dick and the bed, looking down at the mess they’ve made of him. Jason strips off his sweaty t-shirt, shoving his pants off and toeing out of his boots and socks as quickly as he can. Dick runs a hand through his hair, blowing out a breath and then looking up at him. Jason offers him a hand silently, and Dick blinks in surprise before taking it. Dick wobbles his way into the bathroom, still holding Jason’s hand, and Jason doesn’t bother to bite back the smile at how cute he looks like that. They get into the shower, and Jason knocks Dick’s hands away when he tries to wash himself, taking over and soaping Dick’s sweaty, cum covered body. Dick blinks at him slowly when Jason begins to wash his hair, still strangely silent. The quiet is warm and comforting and Jason doesn’t want to break it. 

They dry off, still not speaking, and Jason goes to get redressed while Dick messes with his hair in front of the mirror. Dick walks out when Jason’s got his pants back on, sat on the bed doing the laces of his boots back up. Dick steps into his pants and then leans down to snag his boots from the floor when Jason snatches them up first.

“Come here.” Jason grins, holding out Dick’s boots ready for him to step into. It’s the reverse of unlacing them early and Dick’s mouth quirks in amusement, eyes clear and content this time. He steps forward; lifting a foot to rest on Jason’s knee, and Jason pulls on his sock and then follows it with the boot, repeating the process for the other foot. Dick searches for his gloves while Jason inspects his t-shirt, deciding it’s fine to wear for the trip home. Gloves on and jacket in hand, Dick walks over to the door and pauses to look back at Jason. 

“Guess, I’ll see you around, Todd.” Dick says with a soft smile, and Jason’s heart does that annoying beat skipping thing yet again. Dick looks content and relaxed like Jason’s never seen before and he feels a sense of pride at getting him into that state.

“You’d better, pretty boy. I’m not done with you.” The harshness of Jason’s tone is softened by the matching smile he’s wearing. 

*** 

After Jason’s finished unloading the latest supplies from the Garden to the basement of Big Al’s, he takes the special present he’d found for Alfred over to him. In the ruins of Lex’s empire, there have lots of high powered tech weapons going free if you know who to steal them from, and Jason knows. Alfred’s been using the same shotgun for decades, and last month it had finally seized up and refused to shoot. Alfred had bluffed his way out of it, but Jason’s not going to let his Grandpa use a broken gun when Jason can get him something that’s not only reliable but will never need replacement ammo. It’s also a little thank you for all the help he’d given him with Dick.

The look on Alfred’s face when Jason presents it to him is worth the several hours of hanging around the disreputable parts of the Garden to find the right scumbag with the right key to the former government armoury. He even gets a hug for his trouble. 

“She’s a beauty, my boy. I’ll look after her well.” Alfred says, patting him on the shoulder and walking out the back of the bar to find a target range to practice with.

“Later, Grandpa.” Jason calls out, heading to the front of the bar to make his own way home. He gets two paces out of the door when he bumps into Stephanie.

“Oh hey, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you!” Steph grins at him, smile as sunny as ever.

“Blondie. I’m leavin’ actually.” Jason steps around her, wanting to make a quick exit and not chat.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess you don’t want to keep Dick waiting, huh.” Steph says with a wink, handing him a child’s backpack with a unicorn on the front. Jason blinks down at the bag and then up in confusion at Stephanie.

“Dick’s here? And why are you givin’ me this?” Jason really doesn’t want a little girl’s bag. It’s more Gordon’s style than his. He does want to see Dick though, so he’ll take the damn bag too.

“He’s at the cabin. Me and the girls had a whip round, and we bought you those. Thought they might come in handy for you and Dick.” Steph says with a dirty wink, gesturing to the bag. 

“...OK. Well, I’m gonna go now, Blondie.” Jason says, walking off before he can get drawn into any more conversation.

“Bye! Have fun!” Steph yells to Jason’s retreating back. When Jason gets around the corner he pauses, unzipping the bag and bracing himself for whatever’s inside. Which turns out to be a big bottle of lube, a pair of badly made handcuffs that break as soon as Jason puts the smallest bit of pressure on them, a buttplug, a long stick thing with a feather on the end that looks like a cat toy, and some nipple clamps attached together by a chain. Jason doesn’t think they’ll be getting any use out of anything but the bottle of lube, maybe the nipple clamps, depending on Dick’s reaction. But it’s the thought that counts.

When he gets to the cabin, Dick’s leaning against the open door jamb, hips casually thrust forward and jacket hanging open wide.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Not that I’m complaining.” Jason says instead of a proper greeting. Dick rolls his eyes, but smiles a little too.

“Hey.” Dick takes a few steps back into the room. “Was passing by. Thought we could have some fun?”

“Hmmm. Do I want fun?” Jason muses, following Dick inside and closing the door behind him. “I might need some convincin’.” Dick smirks as if Jason’s just given him a great opening line.

“I told Slade I didn’t need to see him anymore, because I’ve got you... So, I think I deserve a reward.” Dick says, looking Jason up and down when Jason moves to stand up close to him. Knowing that Dick broke things off with Slade for _him_ , well, it’s a heady mix of glee, victory and satisfaction, and a small spark of warm affection under his breastbone that he wants to nurture and see where it’ll go, if Dick’s willing to, too. 

“Gimme a kiss, pretty boy, and I’ll think about it.” Jason says, taking Dick’s chin in his fingers, stopping just short of actually touching Dick’s chest with his own. Dick leans up the few inches between them to brush his lips against Jason’s. Jason slides his hand to the back of Dick’s head and deepens the kiss until Dick’s moaning and sucking at his tongue, clinging to Jason’s shoulders.

“I want to blow you.” Dick says, pulling back and breathing hard, biting at his kiss swollen lower lip. “And then I want to ride you. Hard.”

“What, you thought I’d say no to _that_? Fuck yes, you can blow me, Dickie.” Jason snorts. “So get naked already.” Jason settles on the bed, watching as Dick pulls off his clothes, needing no help with his boots this time. 

“You know, I actually like it when you’re still fully clothed and I’m totally naked. Is that weird?” Dick looks down at Jason with a hungry smile.

“Nope, not at all. Now, _get on your knees_ , pretty boy.” Jason’s barely finished speaking and Dick’s dropped down like a stone, crawling toward him and reaching out to undo his belt.

**Author's Note:**

> The List of things that are canon is much shorter than the list of thing I made up for this fic, so here we go:  
> Dick was a gardener under Bruce.  
> Jason does lead the Red Hood Motorcycle Club.  
> Alfred does run a bar called Big Al's, and the Red Hoods have drunk there at least once in canon.  
> Dick's opening story about outriding the Red Hoods is taken directly from his first appearance in the comics.
> 
> I think that's it.


End file.
